


Zemblanity

by malfunction127_code_ar



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Spirits, Character Death, Gen, Undead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 15:05:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfunction127_code_ar/pseuds/malfunction127_code_ar
Summary: The general rules of thumb when conversing with spirits are as follows: 1) do not give them access to your body, 2) do not attempt to resurrect them, 3) always be polite, 4) know the names of demons and angels and do not speak with either of them, 5) do not - under any circumstances - tell them your name.These exist to protect all those interested in speaking with the dead, but they do little to stop college students with too much time on their hands, too much alcohol in their systems, and too much stupid in their heads.





	Zemblanity

**Author's Note:**

> Zemblanity : the inevitable discovery of what we would rather not know; the opposite of serendipity

According to most books on ghosts, there is no proper way to contact them. For some, a Ouija board or a spirit box is beyond their knowledge and ability, and to others these same items are beneath them. Regardless of the thing one _uses_ to interact with the dead, the general rule of thumb is to never – under _any circumstances_ – allow these spirits to abide within one’s body. And another fairly common rule of thumb is that the dead are meant to _stay_ dead. Do not, _ever_ , attempt to revive the no longer living. It just isn’t worth it or safe for anyone involved.

Of course, when it comes to drunk college students with too much time on their hands, too much liquor in their systems, and too much stupid in their heads to remember these rules, the idea of doing all of the above is pretty much right up their alley. Which is how Y/N, Lucas, Ten, Hendery, Yangyang, Xiaojun, Sicheng, and Kun find themselves huddled around a candlelit Ouija board. In the town cemetery. At midnight. During a full moon.

Looking around the circle, Ten smirks, the action bathed in an eerie glow. _It makes him look inhuman_ , Y/N thinks, but they brush off that thought quickly.

“So, who wants to start first? I think…it should be…Yang-Yang!” Ten singsongs, head bobbing side to side as he leans ever closer over the burning flames.

The youngest of the group swallows, shifting in his spot, glancing around in hopes someone else will take his turn. Instead, he’s met only with wide eyes, all waiting for him to go ahead and start, because it only makes sense to have the littlest and most frightened do the dirty work. Inhaling, Yangyang focuses his eyes on the board and the planchet that his fingers shake against.

“He-hello. Is…is there anyone w-with us?” he inquires, closing his eyes in hopes that that will make his fear dissipate.

A breeze kicks up, brushing over the groups figures and causing the candles surrounding them to flicker. Lucas’s eyes are wide, a bead of sweat beginning to roll down the right side of his temple. Beside him, Hendery can’t stop looking around, searching for the things that make the noise against the trees. Xiaojun is clutching at Kun’s hand tight enough to break it, jumping at the shadows that dance around the circle. Kun himself is stoic, but anyone can see he’s desperately chewing at his bottom lip to stop himself from demanding them to all stop this. Everyone except Ten, Sicheng, and Y/N seem ready to flee, but something holds them in place.

Just when Yangyang is thinking that his prayers will be answered, the planchet moves beneath his fingers. Moves beneath all their fingers. It skitters across the board, inching towards the YES burned into the wood.

“Al-alright guys stop fucking around. Who’s doing this?” Lucas squeaks, his usual goofy nature gone.

Everyone looks to the person beside them, Sicheng shrugging in response as he keeps his gaze transfixed. Just like Ten, something is keeping him totally focused on the game before them.

“It’s not any of the people here, I can tell you that much. I’ll go next,” he rushes, a wildfire burning in his brown eyes. “Who is here with us?”

Leaves snap against one another as a clap of thunder sounds from the heavens. There’s barely time to think as the planchet jerks across the board, spelling out ‘B-U-N-E’. A deep laugh echoes from the trees behind the group, causing everyone but Sicheng and Ten to remove their hands from the planchet. It continues to slide across the board, and the group watches in their drunken stupor as it writes ‘P-L-E-A-S-E-B-O-D-Y’.

“Dude, I don’t know what the fuck you two are doing, or what you’re messing with, but I’m _out of here_!” Lucas shouts, standing up and making a run for the gates of the cemetery.

Yangyang, Hendery, and Xiaojun give each other a furtive look before starting out as well, chasing after Lucas and yelling for him to wait up. Kun casts one last glance at the three still sat around the board, Y/N appearing ready to bolt as well, but unable to for fear of leaving Ten and Sicheng alone.

Raising their eyes from the board, Y/N nods at Kun, mouthing for him to go after them. None of those boys would be able to get home safely without him, and it was likely they were still too inebriated to actually find their way back. With a frown etched on his face, Kun starts towards the gates, looking back only once before he too is swallowed by the night.

“Guys, come on, we should close this. Say goodbye and end it,” Y/N pleads, reaching a tentative hand out to touch Ten’s shoulder.

His head jerks towards them sharply, that same fire that was in Sicheng’s gaze now burning in his own. A chill runs down Y/N’s spine, like a hand grasping at their skin and tugging desperately. The air disappears from their lungs, forcing them to hunch over and grasp at the grass beneath them. Gasping for breaths, they don’t see Sicheng and Ten return to the Ouija board, nor witness the way they share an unmistakable glance before offering one thing they had no right to.

‘T-A-K-E-T-H-E-M’

Everything begins to spin around Y/N, their eyes losing focus as it becomes harder and harder to breathe. The chill that had previously run through them is sinking into their veins, freezing their blood in place. The two boys beside them end the conversation, snapping out of whatever trance they were in and staring at each other in confusion.

Lightning strikes overhead, thunder rumbling so loud it shakes the ground. Ten and Sicheng watch in horror as the candles topple over, sputtering out against the dirt and rolling into the graves, plunging them into the dark. Neither is sure what’s going on, let alone what happened before they finally ended the game, but a pressing fear demands they get out of here.

“We’ve got to get out of here, I-I don’t know what we did but I don’t…this is _bad_ , Ten,” Sicheng whimpers, pulling at his sweater sleeve.

Ten agrees, turning to tell Y/N that they were right, and it was time to go, only to find that they’re passed out beside him. Shuffling forward, Ten grabs at their shoulders, shaking them fiercely and feeling panic bubble up in his chest.

“Wake up, Y/N! This isn’t funny,” Ten snaps.

Sicheng inches closer, covering his mouth as he sees the way Y/N looks. His hand shakes as it grabs and pulls at Ten’s arm, chanting his name over and over. Ten doesn’t stop trying to wake Y/N up, his voice hoarse when he finally realizes that it isn’t going to work. Tears spill down his cheeks as he stares at his friend’s lifeless body.

“Come on, we need to get out of here,” Sicheng whispers, yanking at Ten’s arm. When that doesn’t make the dark-haired man budge, he tries again, managing to dislodge the other from the ground. “We can’t do anything else. We need to get _home_. Before anyone finds us here with…with them.”

Ten can only nod, numbness taking over any other responses he might have as Sicheng drags him away. As they round the gates of the cemetery, Ten is sure he sees the body twitch, but he forces his eyes closed and wills it away.

_They’re dead. They’re dead and we did that. They’re dead and not coming back._

\---

Groaning, Y/N sits up, rubbing at the back of their neck and rolling their shoulders to remove the stiffness. They blink repeatedly, attempting to remove the filmy substance that covers their lids, making it hard to see. A hand raises from their side, swiping at their face and coming back covered in grime and a slimy fluid.

“Gross,” they grimace, wiping the essence on the grass beside them.

_Wait, grass?_ Rotating their body, they take in the headstones surrounding them, as well as the black gates just on the edges of the greenery. Another turn and they find the Ouija board is lying at their feet, candles nowhere in sight and planchet burned nearly to soot. The night before rushes back to Y/N, causing them to hyperventilate as they remember the immense pain that had surged through them.

They also recall a voice, gravelly and old, demanding to have their body. _It must have been a dream. Yeah, it was all a bad dream and the guys must have left me here as a prank. Shitheads_.

Struggling to their feet, Y/N brushes off the grass stains and other debris that clings to their clothing. With a few heavy steps forward, they find themselves stumbling forward, clutching at a headstone to keep from smashing into the ground again. A huff escapes their lips, fingers digging into the stone and pushing them upright. The next move forward feels heavier, and they feel as if they’re dragging a weight around rather than walking.

“Now stop this, Y/N. You know how to walk. One foot forward, then the other. I mean, we’ve done this all our life. Get it together,” they chastise, shaking themselves out.

Somehow, they manage to make it out of the cemetery without another fall, though their movements are still rather awkward. A passerby scrunches their nose and speeds up their morning run, which Y/N scoffs at before flipping them off. _People these days, acting like they’ve never seen a hungover college kid_.

The walk home takes longer than usual, but Y/N is more than happy to reach the front doorsteps, trudging up them and exhaling loudly. From the other side of the door, they can hear frantic whispering and panicked conversation, causing their brows to furrow. Something must have happened last night. _Maybe they’re bickering about why I’m not home yet. Serves them right for giving me such a scare and then leaving me._

Scavenging for their key in their jacket pockets, they smile at finally managing to tug it out. They cock their head to the side in confusion, surprised at how dirty their hands are. _Must have been from when I was clutching at the grass._ Shrugging it off, they insert their key in the lock, twisting it and stepping into the front entrance.

Silence greets them, and Y/N chuckles as they step forward and close the door behind them. “Funny joke guys, leaving me in the cemetery by myself. Hahaha-“

“OH MY GOD!”

Screams and shrieks greet Y/N as they finally come into the living room, seven boys scrambling to get as far away from them as possible. Ten starts sobbing profusely, clutching at his hair as Sicheng yells swears at Y/N, who only stares at them in shock.

Raising their hands, they take a step forward. “What’s going on with you guys? I mean, it’s not like I _died_ or something.”

The joke doesn’t float over well, as Kun expertly picks up the fire poker beside him, hefts it in his good throwing arm and tosses it right at them. Y/N has no time to react, closing their eyes to brace for the ultimate pain of being skewered by the fire poker of a world-renowned javelin thrower, but no such thing occurs. Instead, the screams only start getting louder, and Y/N only has to look down to see why.

“Holy shit.”

With that, they pass out, fire poker sticking out of their abdomen as they crumble to the living room floor. The shouts don’t stop until Kun manages to silence everyone, stepping forward and nudging Y/N’s body with his foot. His own breathing is shallow, voice shaking as he tells Lucas to help him get them out of there.

Already his mind is racing to find a reasonable explanation. For a man who enjoys magic, this was beyond anything that he had ever encountered. People didn’t just die and come back to life. Of course, people didn’t get themselves possessed and end up telling some fucking _demon_ that they could take the body of their best friend, but that’s another conversation for when Kun isn’t hefting one supposed-to-be-dead-but-isn’t-friend up the stairs and into their bedroom.

Downstairs, Ten can’t stop shaking, Sicheng’s honeyed voice doing little to calm his nerves. He saw Y/N. He saw them dead back at the cemetery, not a single possibility for them to still be alive. Yet here they are, acting totally fine and passing out when they’ve been speared. All at once, Ten feels nausea consume him, and he has no time to warn anyone as he throws up right on the couch.

\---

“Ugh, what the hell?” Y/N slurs, attempting to move only to find their hands and feet tied to their bed.

When they finally raise their eyes, Kun and Sicheng are staring them down, and they beam at seeing two of their friends. In any other circumstance, they might have even been _thrilled_ by the presence of the two men, but currently they’d like to know what the hell was going on.

Sicheng beats them to it, as usual. “What the ever-loving fuck are you _doing_ here? No, better yet, _who_ the hell are you?”

Y/N’s head tilts to the side, a pout on their face as they blink sluggishly. “I’m…I came home. It’s just me…Y/N. I’m pretty sure no one else could possibly be me anyway.”

“Quit joking around! You-you _can’t_ be Y/N! They _died_. I saw them. They-“ Sicheng’s sentence is cut short when he starts to cry, hand coming up to cover his mouth. Shaking his head, he waves at Kun to do the talking, unable to continue.

Kun lets out a breath, keeping his expression neutral. “Listen, as much as I would love to believe you’re our friend, Sicheng and Ten saw them die. It’s not possible for you to be them, anymore than it is possible for them to be here now. So I would highly appreciate it if you’d be honest with us and tell us who you are.”

“Kun, I’m serious. It’s just me,” Y/N pleads, tugging at the ties on them. “I swear! I-I don’t know what happened in the cemetery, but I couldn’t be dead. How could I be here if I was dead?”

Rolling his eyes, Kun crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s sort of what we’re trying to figure out here, dumbass. You…apparently it’s possible you were possessed the other night, so we’re not ruling out that you’re just playing us. Which is why I sent Xiaojun out to get _this_.”

With a rather unnecessary flourish, Kun pulls a bottle from inside his shirt pocket, showing it to Y/N, who squints at the words inscribed on it.

“Holy water? What’s that supposed to do?”

“Get you out of our friend’s body! Let them rest in peace!” Sicheng roars, only stopped from throwing himself at the person on the bed by Kun’s arm.

Exhaling, Kun pushes Sicheng towards the door, whispering his name until he looks him in the eyes. “I think it would be best if you went downstairs with the others. Whatever is going to happen next isn’t going to be something you want to see.”

Sicheng opens his mouth to object, only to shut it tightly upon taking another look at the person on the bed. That’s supposed to be their friend, but it can’t be. It just can’t, and whatever Kun is going to do might just show them all that.

“Fine.”

Once he’s left the room, Kun shuts and locks the door, turning back to Y/N, who wriggles on their bed, tugging uselessly at the knots. Everything about the way they’re acting reminds Kun of his friend, and a nagging feeling in the back of his mind tells him to let them go. He can’t though, because it might not be Y/N, and then they’d have to fight off some fucking demon, and he didn’t need that on his laundry list of chores.

“Now, for the last time, tell me who you are,” Kun demands, holding the bottle of holy water out towards the bed.

Teary eyes stare back at him, the same ones that used to cry over the littlest injuries to any of them. Y/N can’t stop the way their lips tremble, or the sinking feeling in their chest that everyone is _right_. They died last night, and now they’re back but it’s not right. None of this is right. They shouldn’t be here, and whatever thing had tried to take their body last night may still have a hold on them and god, what if it hurt the guys?

Swallowing, they turn their head away, closing their eyes. “I told you who I am. But I don’t want to hurt any of you, so please, just…end it.”

Kun feels his heart squeeze, but he holds steady, finally dumping the entire bottle onto Y/N’s body and waiting. Except nothing happens. There’s no sizzling or screaming, no voice tearing itself from Y/N’s body and demanding that Kun stop. Instead, there’s just a slightly damp Y/N, shaking and crying and clearly terrified of what’s happened. What’s happening.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. What _happened?_ ” Kun whispers, moving toward the bed.

His fingers work on undoing the knots around Y/N’s ankles, a gut feeling telling him that this was right. Whatever happened to his friend the night before hadn’t done more than change their physical stance on earth. It hadn’t changed who they were.

Freed of the ropes, Y/N curls into themselves, shivering harshly. Kun grabs at their favorite blanket, dragging it over them and rubbing soothing circles in their back.

“Y/N, you’ve got to tell me what happened. We…we can’t figure this out otherwise,” Kun says.

A broken sob escapes Y/N’s lips as they bury themselves further into their blankets.

“I died, Kun. I died.”


End file.
